


Wounds of the Flesh and of the Heart Hurt Us Both

by jetblacklilac



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boxer AU, F/M, Sadness Lvl: medium, me love angst, post breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21705340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jetblacklilac/pseuds/jetblacklilac
Summary: It's all in the past but sometimes, those dark memories are what builds up a person's character. Margaery would agree, despite the bitterness and sadness of it all.
Relationships: Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Wounds of the Flesh and of the Heart Hurt Us Both

**Author's Note:**

> im so sorry the title is so fucking corny like what the fuck sllsksn

Margaery supposed the very reason as to why a stethoscope hangs around her neck is because of her brother. He would jokingly suggest that maybe her diplomas belonged to him since his repetitive play time injuries are what inspired her to enter med school.

For as long as she can remember, Loras has always been wild at heart, honey laughter, and even brighter eyes underneath the heat of a summer afternoon. He would concoct the strangest games to be played in their backyard with mischief ringing clear in his tone as his hands gesticulates the instructions to her. But what the siblings love to go back to is the fantasy setting of princesses and knights. Only in their version, there were no barriers or reasons for stopping a princess from assisting her heroic knight in his epic adventures.

Their childish recklessness often lead to constant scrapes of knees, tiny cuts littering their limbs, and at one point, both of them had simultaneously broken their arms because they attempted in building a castle on the widest tree they could find… without telling their parents and grandmother.

At first, Margaery managed their slights with band aids, towels stuffed in their mouths as she dabs alcohol on their wounds. But, their imagination grew and so did their courageous blindness in committing to each of them. She became accustomed in dealing of pain and helping other people she figured earning a profit out of it would be beneficiary to everyone involved.

Years later after diligently studying through medical school, Margaery now stands in an emergency room. The scene wouldn’t usually make a doctor smile but her heart warms over the fact she will have a hand in alleviating the pain that exudes in this area. There were children crying, nurses and doctors murmuring prescriptions and explanations to distraught parents, and bizarre accidents that she can’t ever fathom happening outside of fiction.

She returns a clipboard to the reception of nurses when a familiar voice cuts through all the sea of unfamiliar and worried voices in her midst. It was enough for the buzz of her willingness to simmer down to nothing as dread slowly creeps in her system.

“Honestly, he’s so reckless!”

“Well, yeah but he won the round, didn’t he?”

Her focus stayed glued at the smooth table, barely registering the conversations nurses had as they roamed the room. Her hands laid flat on the surface and she strained her ears to listen one more time. Perhaps, her loneliness is creating some sense of comfort by replaying the voices of her friends. No, they were _his_ friends. Even with that thought, she genuinely adored them. It was just, after the breakup, she couldn’t handle anything that is associated with her ex; sadly that meant his friends.

“Doctor Tyrell.” One of the nurses softly called out.

Margaery rapidly blinked as though to push away the discomforting thoughts resurfacing unwillingly. “Yes, Brienne?” She questioned.

The tall blonde pointed to the farthest room with the door open; it was one of the many that caters to different patients. And since the door is left unlocked, it served as a sign that no doctor has yet to help the people in the room.

“I’ve been trying to mend his bruises and clean his cuts but he’s so stubborn! I’m hoping you could help me? Does it also help he is _insanely_ hot?” She said in an optimistic voice and fluttered her eyelashes for effect. The puppy like expression she wore reminded Margaery of when they both tried to go to the gym for her New Year Resolution. Needless to say, after a near accident of breaking her back, she suggested doing yoga with Sansa wouldn’t hurt as much.

She sighed and nodded. “Okay, fine.” She resigned and walked off, not bothering to study the documents handed to her. She figured it was some stubborn teenager with skateboard accident written all over his injuries and his embarrassment is roughening up his pride.

It wasn’t long before the tapping clicks of her heels brought her to the end of the long hallway. She turned to her left and opened the door with the intention of going out the minute after. But the sight before Margaery nearly caused the documents from slipping of her hand.

There, stood familiar faces of Theon and Jon. The shaggy brunette crookedly grinned and nudged Jon, the more solemn between them.

What wasn’t missed upon her assessment is the person who is bent away from the door. Her throat tightens in seeing his lush curls shine under the fluorescent lights. He isn’t wearing a shirt and had his elbows pressed against the top of his knees as though he’s agonizing about something.

“Margaery…” They both greeted her in genuine shock and relief.

Theon, being the most oblivious in social clues, walked up and engulfed her in a bear hug _._ He guffaws and pats her hard on the shoulder. “Holy shit, it’s been too long! How long has it been, two years? And look what it did to you! You look amazing as usual; maybe even more so because you broke up with my best friend!” He exclaimed in carefree glee.

Jon groaned and rolled his eyes. “My apologies, I think his match fucked him much more than he admits.” He smoothly says. The dark curls on his face seem to frame his sad and long face. “But we do need someone to stich up this idiot.” He pleads and vaguely gestures to the only person who hasn’t acknowledged her.

“I don’t need stitching.” Robb grumbled.

Margaery nearly gasped aloud. It _has_ been two years since she heard the gravel in his voice with her own ears. She knows what his voice sound like, detached and thick yet somehow has the ability to melt hearts and create that delicious sizzle underneath her skin that she used to be addicted to. Saving herself the chagrin, she composes her posture and walks to the edge of the bed, her knees touching the soft mattress.

“Robb.” She addresses him as a doctor to a patient. But her hands are clutching the folder tightly and she wants to run because the moment his icy eyes meet hers; she’s a goner all over again.

Still, the stubbornness of a Stark is exercised as he didn’t bother to look at her. “Margaery.” He returns with even more formality it prickles annoyance into her armour that is aloofness.

His upper body, though impressive and a sight to drool at, is riddled with tiny forming bruises. She recalls the time she would kiss each bruise that would surface on his skin, murmur her love on the hurt he has received because once when they were foolish, they believed such magic exists.

Margaery can admire the beautiful slope of his nose, the plush in his pink mouth, and his strong chin. Even from a side angle, he is breath-taking. “Let me guess, you were brought here after a fight of yours, all bloodied and beat up.” She dryly deadpans. It was as though nothing changed. This is, after all, how they met. That memory felt bitter on her tongue right now.

Robb finally deigned himself to face him by propping one of his leg on the bed. There were deep purple bruises on his face and dried blood on the places was there aren’t any physical evidences of the fight. Oddly he still sat tall, like he was ready to face _her_ in a battle.

In the past, they did and it is set outside of the ring and inside of their tiny apartment. Arguments bounced off the walls and sometimes, her throat ran raw at the continuous debate they have about every miniscule thing.

“I won.” He answered her.

 _Yes but with your blood?_ Margaery goes to the silver cart that contained the swabs, cotton, and alcohol. At the corner of her eyes, she noticed Robb tensed up with his shoulders hitching higher and his spine more rigid. She turned to him, mindful of his friends observing them with anticipation. “Do you want me to get someone else?” She hummed. Luckily, she hid her disappointments properly under her tongue. _I want to clean you up one more time before you leave me again._

When he doesn’t answer, at times that is his answer, she abandons the cart, Jon steps forward and Theon huffs an irate breath in protest but it was Robb’s quiet answer that rooted her to the spot once more. The annoying magnet makes itself known by slowly attracting them into a distance she assumed both of them wouldn’t be in again.

“Stay.” Robb says; a plea if he didn’t have so much pride making the words sticks in his throat. It occurs to Margaery this is the first time he spoke to her since he left a chasm in her chest somewhere.

Margaery stiffly nods. She dips the cotton in the alcohol and cups his defined jaw on the other hand. Carefully, she swipes the ball on the cuts and stopped in her movements when Robb lightly flinched. She almost smirked and he caught on to her not so secretive smug expression.

“You caught me by surprise.” He mutters like a child forcing to apologize for their actions.

She hums and continues her motion across his face. She noticed in subtle fascination that stubbles graze against the cotton. A smile was hard to keep out of her face at recalling the time wherein Robb had a full grown beard that one long winter. She, along with Sansa and their brothers, endlessly made fun of his facial hair. But at the end of the day, she cuddled with him and adoringly kissed him even with all the hairs scratching her cheeks.

Tingles dance along her veins and with a quick glance at him, his intense artic eyes follow her every movement. Margaery is brought back to the nights wherein she’d tiredly enter their living room only to find him covered in aftermath violent marks of his profession. She forced him to sit down, for herself to sit on his lap, and clean his wounds. She knows, with a twine of sadness, the moment she lifts the ball of cotton away, he’ll be gone in under a second.

 _It’s for the better. I keep on wishing over dead stars._ A stubborn part of her hissed and reared away from the man who scrambles all reason in her usually logical mind.

She presses an ice pack on his other cheek and gestures for him to hold it. “You’ll be alright now.” She assures with a smile. She glances around and the room find his friend still watching over them with interest. Theon created an impression he has an entire joke book being written with each passing second. Jon is more concerned about Robb’s health.

“Robb, may I ask a question?” She asks with great hesitance. She knows being straightforward is never his strong pursuit. He’d rather play a part than be the one to write down the conversation.

Robb nods.

“In the past, you’ve never gone to a hospital after a match. Why now?” She questions. Her hands are clutching the clipboard and her teeth nibbling on her lower lip.

There it is; the small panic in his artic eyes. He has to say something close to the heart and he’s very much a recluse person in that. He can lie to her though. He did that in the past. _And you let him lie to you._

“I didn’t know you still worked here. This is so close to our gym. I, I thought you transferred or something. And I figured I could let them have less worry because um, I’ve been reckless since our breakup.” Robb admits in a drawl, as though he’ll try to reel it all back in depending on her reaction. Caution of her reaction is one of the reasons as to why he lie, he once said. She threw her phone at phone for saying that.

Margaery blinks at what she heard. This is the fastest time she received a substantial answer from him. Usually, they’d scream at each other first before she even gets a clue of what’s happened to him. _Has something happened? How reckless was he?_

“If I’d known you were here, I would’ve forced them to drag me all across town to St. Margaret.” He adds and it crushes the romantic ideas just stirring in her mind. “At least I wasn’t admitted here when I was in that accident.” He dryly chuckled at that memory leaning on one hand and the other presses the ice pack harder on his purple eye.

She frowns at hearing this. “Accident? What happened?” Her voice quivers in concern.

Being a doctor, she’s innately worried for peoples’ conditions. The images of Robb in a pool of his own blood, possible broken bones, x-rays of his shattered limbs sent chills in her veins. Her worry comes in waves and she doesn’t have the power, or the will, to keep it at bay.

His free hand enveloped her hand with a small smile. His thumb circling loose patterns and it pours warmth in her blood. “Marg, relax. I was drunk-“

“Drunk? Oh gods, that doesn’t help!” She shrieks and she holds his hand tighter than she would ever admit. The pair didn’t even know that Robb held on her dangling hand because of the sting of alcohol on his face.

Theon snickered while Jon roughly elbowed him in the ribs.

The smile on his face is insufferable but she misses him and his hold on her. And everything else he has, she misses him so much at that moment and it doesn’t help her situation knowing that he’s always an idiot when he’s alone. “Just a broken arm for a few months and I was fine to fight again! Thank God Jon and Theon were my emergency contact.” He reassures and he hasn’t slipped from her panicked hold.

Noticeably, she relaxes. She takes the melting ice pack from him and puts it on the tray. “You’re good to go. Just sign a few things on the registrar and you’re good.” Margaery instructs with a smile. She tucks away the sadness of not ever seeing him again. It’s inevitable anyways. They were each other’s pasts.

He slips off the bed and wears his dirt stained white shirt. Margaery scrunches her nose at that. Is he still so attached to the rags he insists on wearing? “Thanks for patching me up. It’s nice to see you looking good.” He genuinely says with a smile.

 _I miss you so much._ “It’s nice seeing you too though I wish it was on better circumstances.” She joins in with a beam. She tries to maintain her calm façade though her insides are deflating.

He isn’t at all affected by their separation. Maybe that drunken incident was completely independent from their situation. After all, the guys love to drink.

“Please be more careful, Robb.” Margaery quietly scolds. She wants to reach out and trace her fingers down his arm but she holds back. _So you won’t have to come back here and show me just how fine you are without me._

“Give it straight to us doc, is he dumber than he already is?!” Theon exclaimed in false worry and patted his best friend’s cheeks.

Jon sighs. “As if he can get to that level.”

“Yeah, he’s already the dumbest that he is.” Theon agrees as he clapped Robb hard on the back.

Margaery giggles at their antics. “Guys, he’ll be fine.” _Not really in his line of work. Premature brain damage is right ahead._ “Help him fill up the form and everything will be fine.” She said with a smile.

Surprisingly, Robb opened his mouth as though he was about to say something but her beeper went off. He arranges himself with a clear of a throat. “Um, thanks again.” His eyes lower for a moment before it shines with casualness.

“Sure.” Margaery flippantly said her mind zoning on her next task in the hospital. She rushed out of the room as fast as she could, trying to ignore the brimming curiosity in her to what her ex was about to say.

**Author's Note:**

> yay or nay? i think the ending is perfect!!


End file.
